suit. He’d only reacted out of protectiveness and a long-standing friendship.
And yet, when they waltzed last night, she moved with him so perfectly. His palms still warmed at the memory of touching her, even through the barrier of gloves and gown. He’d touched her before, of course. They’d run wild through the woods together as children, handing each other across streams, boosting each other up trees. He’d helped her regain her footing often enough when she tripped over her skirts trying to keep up with him.
But a waltz was different; a waltz was the next thing to an embrace. Good God, the dance had driven him to flirt with her. With Julia. And that, perhaps, was even a greater shock than returning from the war to find her unwed.
“W HAT do you think of that parasol?” Julia pointed out a creation of peach silk, hand-painted with depictions of parrots and edged in peacock feathers. It dangled from the hand of a giggling young miss a few yards to the left.
Sophia barely glanced at it. “Lovely. Why don’t you see if you can find one like it in the shops?”
“Because it’s perfectly ghastly.”
Besides, neither of them could afford any sort of new accessories. If only she’d seen her way clear to accepting Lord Brocklehurst’s suit. She might have saved her family the expense of two years’ worth of unwanted ball gowns. As with her other suitors, he’d been too attached for her comfort, too enthusiastic in his courtship. No man would pursue a young lady of no fortune and little enough connections unless he experienced true sentiment. And the depth of ardor in Brocklehurst’s eyes had struck a fundamental fear within.
Sophia blinked. “Oh. I suppose it is.”
With a sigh, Julia took her sister’s arm. “We may as well go home.”
A stroll through Hyde Park had done nothing to improve Sophia’s spirits. She went through the motions of greeting the fashionable crowd, all the while drifting slowly from the main paths until she and Julia stood on a forsaken patch of grass.
She paled. “Must we?”
Julia leaned close. “I thought a constitutional might serve as a distraction, but it’s obviously doing no good.”
“Why, Julia? Why won’t Ludlowe see me?”
A quick glance revealed several schoolgirls tossing bits of bread to the ducks along the banks of the Serpentine. A few young ladies strolled the paths, showing off the latest style of walking dress, while gentlemen on horseback attempted to steal their attention. None of them, however, were close enough to overhear anything Julia and Sophia might be discussing.
Julia looked hard at her sister. “If I might speak plainly, I cannot help but wonder why, after all these years, you still want him to.”
Sophia’s lower lip trembled. “Don’t you think if I could stop feeling this way, I would?”
Julia tightened her fingers about her sister’s arm. “Let’s go home.”
“No, not home.”
She shook her head. “Whyever not?”
“I don’t want—” Sophia’s blue eyes focused on an object past Julia’s shoulder. “Oh no!”
Turning her head, she followed the direction of her sister’s gaze until Lady Wexford’s frowning face came into view beyond the rim of her poke bonnet.
Sophia tensed further. “Drat, she’s spotted us.”
Julia swung her head back to her sister. “Why should it matter?”
“You have some nerve showing your face in public after last night.” Lady Wexford’s hiss of disapproval crashed over them both.
Firming her chin, Julia swiveled to meet the threat head-on. “What is the meaning of this?”
Lady Wexford surveyed Julia from head to toe and then nodded, a single jerk of her head. “It’s no surprise she hasn’t told you. Hardly a cause for pride, what she did last night. There are ways of capturing the attention of one’s betters that do not result in one’s social ruin.”
The feathers on her bonnet rippled in righteous indignation as she stepped closer. “If you had any sense, young
And yet, when they waltzed last night, she moved with him so perfectly. His palms still warmed at the memory of touching her, even through the barrier of gloves and gown. He’d touched her before, of course. They’d run wild through the woods together as children, handing each other across streams, boosting each other up trees. He’d helped her regain her footing often enough when she tripped over her skirts trying to keep up with him.
But a waltz was different; a waltz was the next thing to an embrace. Good God, the dance had driven him to flirt with her. With Julia. And that, perhaps, was even a greater shock than returning from the war to find her unwed.
“W HAT do you think of that parasol?” Julia pointed out a creation of peach silk, hand-painted with depictions of parrots and edged in peacock feathers. It dangled from the hand of a giggling young miss a few yards to the left.
Sophia barely glanced at it. “Lovely. Why don’t you see if you can find one like it in the shops?”
“Because it’s perfectly ghastly.”
Besides, neither of them could afford any sort of new accessories. If only she’d seen her way clear to accepting Lord Brocklehurst’s suit. She might have saved her family the expense of two years’ worth of unwanted ball gowns. As with her other suitors, he’d been too attached for her comfort, too enthusiastic in his courtship. No man would pursue a young lady of no fortune and little enough connections unless he experienced true sentiment. And the depth of ardor in Brocklehurst’s eyes had struck a fundamental fear within.
Sophia blinked. “Oh. I suppose it is.”
With a sigh, Julia took her sister’s arm. “We may as well go home.”
A stroll through Hyde Park had done nothing to improve Sophia’s spirits. She went through the motions of greeting the fashionable crowd, all the while drifting slowly from the main paths until she and Julia stood on a forsaken patch of grass.
She paled. “Must we?”
Julia leaned close. “I thought a constitutional might serve as a distraction, but it’s obviously doing no good.”
“Why, Julia? Why won’t Ludlowe see me?”
A quick glance revealed several schoolgirls tossing bits of bread to the ducks along the banks of the Serpentine. A few young ladies strolled the paths, showing off the latest style of walking dress, while gentlemen on horseback attempted to steal their attention. None of them, however, were close enough to overhear anything Julia and Sophia might be discussing.
Julia looked hard at her sister. “If I might speak plainly, I cannot help but wonder why, after all these years, you still want him to.”
Sophia’s lower lip trembled. “Don’t you think if I could stop feeling this way, I would?”
Julia tightened her fingers about her sister’s arm. “Let’s go home.”
“No, not home.”
She shook her head. “Whyever not?”
“I don’t want—” Sophia’s blue eyes focused on an object past Julia’s shoulder. “Oh no!”
Turning her head, she followed the direction of her sister’s gaze until Lady Wexford’s frowning face came into view beyond the rim of her poke bonnet.
Sophia tensed further. “Drat, she’s spotted us.”
Julia swung her head back to her sister. “Why should it matter?”
“You have some nerve showing your face in public after last night.” Lady Wexford’s hiss of disapproval crashed over them both.
Firming her chin, Julia swiveled to meet the threat head-on. “What is the meaning of this?”
Lady Wexford surveyed Julia from head to toe and then nodded, a single jerk of her head. “It’s no surprise she hasn’t told you. Hardly a cause for pride, what she did last night. There are ways of capturing the attention of one’s betters that do not result in one’s social ruin.”
The feathers on her bonnet rippled in righteous indignation as she stepped closer. “If you had any sense, young
Similar Books
